


Undone

by evitably



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Injury, Makeup, Recovery, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Turians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evitably/pseuds/evitably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus doesn't recognize his own face without the paint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeitheist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitheist/gifts), [mintsui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintsui/gifts).



The graft takes ages to stop itching. It itches right under Garrus's carapace, right inside his muscles. Garrus doesn't like the way it feels -- he keeps poking at the inside of his mouth with his tongue in the hopes it will ease the ache. It never does.

It doesn't bother Garrus. The discomfort is easy to ignore when he sets his mind to it and grits his teeth. 

The scars, though ... the scars are an entirely different matter. Garrus is no stranger to pain and injuries, but when he looks in the mirror, it takes him a moment to recognize the stranger as himself.

*

Like any turian, Garrus cultivates his habits from a young age. Applying his facepaint is the first thing he does after getting up, and removing it is the last thing he does before going to bed. On his days off he makes the paint himself, mixes powder with grease and pigment with practiced ease.

When he's out in the field, he doesn't wipe it off, no matter how badly it peels or smears.

Nobody's ever seen his face bare, and he likes it that way.

*

Before the injuries become scars, he doesn't mind that he's been banned from painting what amounts to half his face. His face is a war memorabilia and the webbing of cybernetics that replaces his carapace is his paint. But little by little, as months go by and his exoskeleton begins to repair itself, the cybernetics merge with a new, fragile layer of carapace, the ache eases, and all Garrus finds himself with is a face half painted and half ruined.

There's nobody he can talk to on the crew. Occasionally he entertains thoughts of talking to the doctor, or the psychologist, or maybe even Shepard, but they care too much and they're too human. They won't understand.

*

The first time he holds the paint to the right side of his face after getting his face blown up doesn't go as planned. Garrus lets his hand hover in the air and tightens his hold on the paint pad. All of a sudden, a lifetime of applying it to his face flees his memory and leaves him hesitant.

His face stares at him in the mirror, a mess of scars and pits and cybernetics, and it's not the face Garrus wants to have.

He brings down his hand, touches the pad to the bridge of his nose, and drags it below his eye. The line is a bit wobbly, not as exact as the left side of his face, and falls a bit short; but it's a start, and once he's started he does not intend to stop.

After he's done, once he straightens his gaze to meet it in the mirror, he's surprised to be able recognize his own face.


End file.
